


Sentimental Value

by Ub_sessed



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Geralt being a goof, Geralt masturbates in the tub, Geralt's sex fantasies, Little more than a plot bunny really, M/M, Masturbation, Microsmut, Porn Without Plot, dildo, with a bit of smut at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:08:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23439733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ub_sessed/pseuds/Ub_sessed
Summary: Geralt accidentally comes across Jaskier’s dildo (it had been a parting gift from a recent lover. While neither as big nor as flexible as say, a cucumber, it did have the great advantage that it didn’t rot into smelly mush after sitting at the bottom of his pack for more than a couple days. Also it had a convenient handle for maneuverability, very helpful when on one’s own).
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 5
Kudos: 160





	Sentimental Value

Geralt left Jaskier downstairs entertaining the masses (and collecting his fee) while he went to their room to find some soap. This monster had been particularly putrid, and Geralt didn’t want to smell like its intestines any longer than he had to. Surely Jaskier had something fragrant Geralt could clean himself with. Rummaging in Jaskier’s pack, he found something promising: a cloth bag containing a couple bottles. He pulled it out and sneered: Jaskier had clearly spent a pretty penny on it. The bag was a pale blue, to match Jaskier’s eyes, and had dainty little buttercups embroidered on it. Well it wasn’t Geralt’s fault if Jaskier spent too much money on his toiletries. Geralt needed to get clean, and Jaskier would probably actually be grateful that Geralt smelled… expensive, for once. In the bag he found a bottle of some kind of oil… potentially useful, but not exactly what he was looking for. He reached in to pull out the other bottle.  


It was not another bottle. Geralt looked at the object in his hand for a long moment, his mind an immediate blank. (He had seen dildos before, of course, in brothels, but those had all been crude, crafted to look like exaggerated penises. This looked nothing like a penis.) It looked like... a very smooth, wooden, bottle? With a rounded end. And a kind of … handle? Coming off the base at an almost right angle. Clearly some sort of massage implement, to go with the oil…  


His reflexes sent the message to drop the object instantly, but neither his hand nor his brain received it. His brain, presented with an analytical puzzle, continued to ponder exactly what use such an object might have, even while somewhere else in his mind alarm bells were ringing and someone was waving a very large red flag indicating that this was NOT a path he wanted to go down. Why the shape? And why the angle of the handle? He imagined Jaskier with the object, and from behind the someone with the large red flag appeared images of Jaskier in several of the many positions in which he might … entertain himself with such an object. A shiver rushed over Geralt’s body, definitely not going anywhere near his penis. Or any other parts of his body anywhere near his penis.  


Geralt hastily put away the pretty blue bag and its contents and took himself down to the bath-house to focus on getting himself clean. Once he was thoroughly scrubbed he felt better, and relaxed in the hot water. He had the bath-house to himself: everybody was in the tavern. He could hear the music as Jaskier led everyone in a rowdy celebration of Geralt’s heroic deeds. He would probably have the bath-house to himself for a while, so he might as well take care of certain other needs while he was here, alone, and already undressed anyway.  


Geralt generally saw masturbating as just another bodily function, like eating or shitting (though more pleasurable), another need to be fulfilled quickly and efficiently, with minimum fuss. It had never occurred to him that Jaskier might approach it differently. Obviously Jaskier was renowned for the delight he took in his lovers, but when he was alone… Geralt had heard Jaskier, often, at night, when he obviously thought Geralt was asleep or especially meditative. It had never sounded like anything more than a quick rub and tug. Geralt himself had been a bit more experimental in his youth, but that was a long time ago, and his lifestyle didn’t lend itself to pleasuring himself leisurely. For one thing it meant taking more of your clothes off.  


But here he was, already completely naked, and alone, and in a tub. And slippery. Why not just try a little… play? It could intensify the experience, if memory served him well. So he reached under his ass with his free hand and tried just a little wiggling. And then poking. His whole perineum clenched. Oh, that _was_ good. He poked a little further. But with this angle, he could only get in to the first knuckle: he was effectively sitting on his hand. So he reached around the front instead, but that got in the way of the hand with which he was trying to stroke his dick, so that was just distracting. Finally he got onto his knees in the tub, and was really able to really reach behind and give himself a proper fucking.  


His eyes closed, his jaw dropped, he let himself breathe heavily: nobody would hear him over the din in the tavern. Harder and deeper he pushed, trying to stroke in time with the hand on his dick, but it was too intense, and it was difficult to get his hands to keep time, like rubbing your tummy and patting your head at the same time. And it was fucking frustrating to try to get his fingers in far enough. His wrist just did not bend that way, and neither did his fingers, really. He could see why Jaskier used that contraption.  


He could see Jaskier using that contraption. Suddenly. Behind Geralt’s closed eyes was Jaskier, on his knees, pale thighs quivering, fucking himself with his pretty little dildo. He could see Jaskier’s face, his head tipped back, those dark eyelashes dropped onto his cheeks, his round little mouth open just enough that Geralt wanted to put something in it. He could hear the noises Jaskier would make, holding his breath, trying to keep quiet, but not being able to. Tiny little whimpers.  


Geralt’s orgasm hit him so hard that he nearly fell over in the tub.

**Author's Note:**

> I am also called ub-sessed on Tumblr. :)


End file.
